So, I made a mistake last chapter. "Big brother" in Norwegian is Storebror, with an "e". That's what I get for typing this from memory.
Chapter 6: Traveling
Winter 1924
Eiríkur glared at his brother's back. Without turning around, Lukas said, "Glaring at me will not change anything, lillebror."
"Go die." said little brother stated.
"And leave you without someone to make you butter cake? How could I even dream of depriving you of that?" The glaring intensified, causing Lukas to roll his eyes. "I do not see how making you come to this conference is a bad thing. Besides, we are already here in Bern."
"I could just teleport back home to Reykjavík," Eiríkur pointed out. "Besides, if you believe that anything will get accomplished, then the fey really have done something, because you're usually the one insulting the other nations."
"No, I do not believe anything will get accomplished. I am going because it should be entertaining at the very least."
The Icelander rolled his eyes. Why did he agree to go to the first World Conference again? Oh, yeah. Lukas bribed him.
Three days ago
Eiríkur didn't even blink upon entering his living room and seeing Lukas lounging on his couch. Honestly, it happened so often that he would be a little concerned if a couple months went by and his brother didn't randomly show up. He wondered sometimes if the Norwegian was trying to make up for missing almost a century of his life or if he was just that bored at his own home.
Either way, he walked into his kitchen and grabbed a glass of water before sitting next to his brother. "Do you really have nothing to do at your place?" he asked, not actually expecting an answer.
"Good morning to you to, Eiríkur," Lukas replied, shutting the book he had been reading and placing it on the table. "Actually, I came here to ask you if you would like to come to that World Conference they are trying to set up."
The Icelander looked confused for a moment before suddenly remembering a letter he had gotten a few months ago. "Wait, that wasn't just a prank?"
"I had the same reaction until I realized that it was being held in Bern. I doubt that anyone would try to center a prank in Switzerland, and they would be even more of an idiot than most nations combined if they did," the Norwegian said dryly.
"Why do you want me to go with you?" Eiríkur asked, regretting asking and not just refusing at the start.
"None of the other Nordics are going. Besides, you need to meet more nations and stop being a recluse."
Eiríkur's temper exploded faster than one of his volcanoes. "I am not a recluse! Stop spreading lies about me! I am perfectly fine alone!"
Lukas just stared impassively at his brother. If Eiríkur was used to him randomly showing up, than he was equally as used to the Icelander blowing up. "Your reaction makes me doubt that very much. And please calm down. It would be a shame for one of your volcanoes to erupt."
"IT DOESN'T WORK THAT WAY! And my reaction doesn't give anything away! Stop imagining things!"
The blond nation mentally rolled his eyes, though he kept his face was as blank as ever. If asking didn't work, maybe bribing will. "If you come with me, I will not ask you to call me big brother for three months and I will make my extra special butter cake for Christmas."
He could practically see his brother's mind process that and debate on whether or not to accept his proposal. Eiríkur leaned back into the cushions and said, disgruntled, "…Who exactly is going to this thing?"
Lukas fought the victorious smirk that tried to break out. "I do not know exactly, but I would be surprised to see if many of the Asian or American nations showed, considering the distance. Like I said before, Mikkel, Berwald, and Timo are not planning to come. I do know that England and France will come, so we shall at least see Switzerland threaten to shoot them many times before giving it up as a hopeless cause."
"So, basically, it will be a room full of European nations that have grudges against everyone, and who also has the biggest egos to ever walk the earth?"
"Pretty much."
"That's it. I'm insane for agreeing to this."
"At least you have gone to the realm of the insane for a worthy cause. By the way, you are out of coffee."
If it had been anyone but his brother that had said that, they would have been dumped into the center of Hekla while the Icelander laughed manically.
Eiríkur jolted out of his thoughts upon literally running into his brother. Lukas turned around, raising an eyebrow at him. "Why did you stop so suddenly?"
"I did not," the Norwegian replied, staring at him with his usual blank expression. "I stopped to read the sign to make sure this was the correct hotel, which it is, and you were too lost in your head to pay any attention."
"Shut up."
Lukas didn't respond, just turned around and headed into the building, Eiríkur following, a little annoyed.
Unlike Lukas, who didn't even break stride, the Icelander actually stopped a moment to admire the interior. It wasn't big or grand, but it still had a certain charm to it, with the comfortable looking chairs and couches and nice, earthly colors. It even had a new radio, though it was playing some weird German opera music that he couldn't really understand even though he was fluent in that language..
Realizing that his brother wasn't stopping, Eiríkur picked up his pace, meeting him at the desk. There were two men standing by it, one a fairly nondescript Swiss man, though in a fancy tux.
The other was a little more impressive. He had chin-length blond hair, wore a green military uniform, and had a rifle sling across his back. Judging by the fact he got a gun in here, he was probably Switzerland. That weird aura he always felt when he was near another nation confirmed it.
"Hello. It has been awhile since I have seen you, Zwingli," Lukas greeted in perfect German.
Switzerland nodded. "It has, Bondevik. Who is he?" he asked, gesturing to Eiríkur.
Before he could reply, Lukas introduced him. "This is my brother, Eiríkur Steilsson. He lives in Iceland."
"Hello."
"They're clear," the permanently neutral nation told the other Swiss man at the desk, who nodded and, after asking for spelling, listed their names on a sheet of paper.
"Who else has arrived?" Eiríkur asked, curious.
Switzerland scowled, saying, "All of the annoying people and none of the ones I can stand."
"That could apply to so many people," Lukas observed.
After shooting a look at the Norwegian, the blond elaborated, "The French pervert and that stupid Brit both arrived early, trying to avoid the other. That's why there's a bullet hole I need to get fixed. The American showed up with a look alike and an adventure loving idiot about an hour ago. A short Japanese guy came in soon after, apparently attempting to get away from that cat-loving Grecian guy that was arguing with that stupid Turk. That's it for now. More will sadly show up soon. Here's your room key."
Eiríkur gave a confused look at his brother, not having expected that from the Swiss. Lukas just shrugged, grabbing his bag and taking the key from the nation before walking to the stairs. "Why aren't we taking the elevator?"
"I do not feel like it. Besides, it is only two flights," Lukas replied, ignoring the glare aimed at him.
It didn't occur to Eiríkur that there might be a problem with the fact that they had to share a room until they actually got into it. "There's only one bed," he deadpanned.
"So the tales of Switzerland's hate of spending money are true," Lukas observed.
Eiríkur sighed. "Do you think he'll give us two separate rooms if we go back and ask?" he asked, knowing that it wasn't going to work.
Lukas shook his head. "No. He won't." He walked into the room and placed his bag down, rummaging through it to find the book he had brought.
"Could you pay for an extra room?" the Icelander asked, not missing how the Norwegian tensed upon hearing the question.
"No. Why should I, when I can spend some quality time with my favorite brother?"
"I'm your only brother," Eiríkur protested, though he noted the fact that his brother dodged the question, like he had the past few years.
He can't be that bad financially, can he? He wondered, watching his brother lay down on the bed and start reading out of the corner of his eye. He doesn't seem to have a cold… Shaking his head and realizing that confronting the Norwegian wouldn't work, he plopped down on his bed and stared at the ceiling. "What time does the meeting start?" he asked.
Lukas checked his watch. "In about four hours."
"Wake me up when it's time for dinner," Eiríkur demanded, curling up under the covers. Lukas just smirked and ruffled his hair before turning his attention to his book.
Eiríkur jolted awake about an hour and a half later. Groggily opening his eyes, he tried to figure out what had woken him when he heard a round of coughing. Fully waking, he sat up and searched for the source, finding Lukas hunched over his bag.
"Bróðir!" The Icelander jumped out of bed and ran over to his brother. "What's wrong?"
The coughing fit over, Lukas sighed. "I was hoping that you would not find this out, Eiríkur." He reached into his bag and removed a small vial, drinking the entire thing before turning back to the younger nation. "Let's just say that my economy is not the best at the moment."
Eiríkur frowned. "Is that why you've been a bit touchy about money lately?" he asked, the Norwegian's actions these past few years finally starting to make sense.
"Yes and no. Part of the problem is that, while I get money from the government each month, the amount is not that large because I would rather it go to help my people. It is also hard for me to find a job outside of the government, considering how sooner or later someone will notice that I do not age. Any job where getting hurt is a major possibility is out since they would definitely notice how fast I heal."
"Why didn't you say anything?" Eiríkur asked, concerned about his brother.
"There's nothing that you can do."
"Yes, there is! I could start paying for things when you take me somewhere. I've been trying to for the past couple decades, but you won't let me."
"I don't mind paying for you, though," Lukas said, folding his arms and staring at his brother. "I may not have enough to pay for another hotel room, especially one as nice as this, but I am not in big enough trouble that I can't pay for a few meals."
"I don't care. We are going out for dinner and I am paying," Eiríkur insisted, standing up and grabbing his coat. "It's not as if I haven't stolen- I mean borrowed enough of Mikkel's money."
Lukas stared at the Icelander and apparently decided that it wasn't worth fighting. "Fine," he said, standing up himself and shrugging on his own coat. "This is a one-time thing, however."
Eiríkur rolled his eyes. He wasn't even going to open that can of worms, though his attitude was ridiculous. "By the way," he asked as they left the hotel room, locking the door behind them, "what was that thing you were drinking earlier?"
"It was a potion I made a couple weeks ago. It helps with cold symptoms, though it will not actually cure one that is affected by our countries."
Eiríkur nodded, leading the way to the lobby (taking the elevator this time) and out into the capitol.
Translations: You should know any by now or guess.
Other notes:
Winter 1924- No reason why I chose this date. I literally just randomly chose it.
Bern- Capitol of Switzerland. Why is Switzerland hosting it? He's the neutralist nation out there. He's not afraid to shoot and hates everyone but Liechtenstein equally.
The other Nordics not coming- okay, I'll admit it, I do not really have a good reason why they aren't coming in the story. However, I have plans for when Berwald finally shows up and I couldn't think of a good reason why he wouldn't come if Timo did. As for Magnus, I just didn't feel like writing him when I wrote this chapter.
Hekla- One of Iceland's volcanoes.
Nation auras- Not my headcanon, but it makes sense that there's something that would let other nations know when another is near. This only applies to nations. While a regular human may think there's something familiar about their personification, they won't know who they are unless they are told.
Norway's economy- From what I can tell, it wasn't that good between the World Wars (or after to be honest. Apparently somethings were rationed until the 60s, though I found that info from Wikipedia, so I don't know how accurate it is). I don't believe it got as bad as, say, Germany's, but it still wasn't good. Thus Lukas having a cold and attempting to hide it.
Meh, I still don't like this chapter. Like I said last chapter, I really don't have much planned for the 20s and 30s, plus I really want to get to WWII.
For the record, this chapter was supposed to just be the conference, but I realized I had some things I wanted to mention, and thought I should give some background to the conference.
An omake that didn't really fit in with the rest of the chapter:
They stopped in the lobby, staring at the scene in front of them.
A brunette with a weird curl was shouting profanities in what he believed was Italian at a nervous looking nation he believed was Spain, an auburn haired man attempting to calm him down but bursting into tears when the yelling turned to him. Meanwhile Switzerland had his gun out while yelling at him in the same language and the clerk had mysteriously disappeared.
The two brothers looked at each other and promptly vacated the premises before shots were fired.